2010-2014

WELL OF LOVE

39 SINS of MINE Golden light streams into the room but the warmth it radiates feels tinged with doom, hope it rains soon. I water the birds so they stick around, do they heed the warning written in the cracks of the barren dusty ground,. It’s like the sky’s forgotten how to cry, stopped caring about relieving the dry. Bring on the rain God I pray, let the blue sky above feel my pain. Clean the air we breathe, paint the desert green & wash these sins of mine away! My baby was born while the state was alight and the fires’ll only get worse throughout his life, it’s happening in plain sight. So I save my water and pray for change, for my son and his generation not to have to pay for the mistakes we’ve made. The northern floods don’t trickle way down here, meanwhile our lakes beloved have disappeared and the red sun sears…

40 FRIDAY on my MIND 2 A glass of cheap white & an alpine light. Hope he’s here tonight, do I look alright? Those were the days when Monday I had Friday on my mind. My best friend and I wore our jeans like tights, I didn’t have the legs for it but hers were long and lithe. Those were the days when Monday we had Friday on our minds. No past to drag us down and the future shone in our eyes. The bands and boys in the smoky haze was the best thing in our lives. My best friend moved to Perth in 1989, I hear she’s a lawyer now with three kids under five. Gone are the days when Monday we had Friday on our minds. Now the jeans are tight again but the girls got more on show and instead of flicking smokes they pout infront of phones. A glass of good red, I left the white behind. Haven’t touched a cigarette since Peter Garrett donned a suit & tie. Now I stay home Friday nights, sing my baby to sleep and then I turn the news on, sip my wine and I think about a simpler time, ‘n growing up with weather woes, corporate crimes and online foes, I hope the kids have fun tonight, I hope the future shines in their eyes. Long live the days when Monday they got Friday on their minds, Friday on their minds, Friday on my, Friday on my, Friday on my mind…(Monday I got Friday On My Mind)

41 ENEMY of the STATE Leave Her alone, she’s only 17. She needs some help to find her way, time to wipe the slate clean. Leave her alone. Have you never made a mistake? Have you never wanted to be someone, have you never wanted to tempt fate? Do you remember the time you learned the world wasn’t right, that even big strong men were little boys inside. That your mother couldn’t save you, that your father lied. Understand the problem and keep your opinions inside…it could’ve been your daughter stuck in a teenage dream that turned into a cliché with a football team. 3 men with their pants down, press laying in wait for one mixed up girl, the new enemy of the State. Yeah she should’ve stayed home, should’ve eaten her greens instead of scrounging for junk to feed her facebook fiends. Well here in football city it’s a little unclean. Girls you better beware, Boys you better take heed…

42 MOUNTAINS God made mountains out of clay, set that cosmic wheel up to play. Moulded towers miles high and winding pathways to the sky covered in a gleaming verdant glaze. Then we made a mountain out of waste. God made mountains out of rock, hollowed homes for birds of prey on top. Veiled slope in silken snow, winter wonderland on show till springtime waterfalls begin to break. No waterfalls on a mountain made of waste. Plastic bags, abandoned phones, table legs, chicken bones, broken toys surrendering to fate. Cover it with earth until it looks semi-presentable, the odour of neglect still emanates from a mountain made of waste…God carved mountains from ice. Polar oceans hide their massive size. Pristine water to the core helpless in the brazen warm, the frozen monoliths have had their day while the mountain of waste coldly grows and grows apace. Mattresses, batteries, what’s thrown out of factories, carcasses in stages of decay. Cover it with earth until it looks semi-respectable, the odour of neglect still emanates. Bottle tops, candle wax, bits and bobs and nix and nax, a modern-day disposables parade. Food still in its packaging and trinkets that once meant something and hazards that could set it all ablaze. Cover it with earth until it looks semi-presentable, the odour of neglect still emanates from a mountain made of waste…